


So You Found The Winter Soldier

by TellMeNoAgain



Series: Avengers UnPacked [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25434121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeNoAgain/pseuds/TellMeNoAgain
Summary: Look, people are still encouraging me to have fun in this A/B/O AU, so that's what I'm doing. You haters leave me alone. It's playtime.~~~Sam smiles genially at the last nurse and says, “Yeah, no, we got this- thanks.  He’s all good to go.  I have it on good authority that he’s going to sleep for a long time, now, and so are we, thanks, we’ll call if we need anything, bye!”He shuts the door and leans against it for a moment.  Peter can sympathize.  It was a very fast whirl of too many people and too many things happening, all at once, for an hour there.But, he cautiously approves the results.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Darcy Lewis/Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Avengers UnPacked [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623790
Comments: 28
Kudos: 75





	So You Found The Winter Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is what happens when I read a recommended story that turns into reading TEN A/B/O fics, find out that there are no RULES for this shit, and decide, "Well, fuck it, if everyone's having fun in this sandbox, I'm going to, too."
> 
> You don't have to like it, I promise. But I had a whole lot of fun writing it.
> 
> Beta'd by my brave jf4m and mindwiped, who are easily the most courageous people on the planet, because I threw this at them and said JESUS CHRIST I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I'M SORRY, and then they corrected my spelling and caught my errors like the pros they are, anyway.
> 
> I've put links to the fics I read to learn about A/B/O in the end notes of the first story.
> 
> Every remaining mistake and all the broken things about the rules of this AU belongs to me. Me and 3 AM, baby.

Sam smiles genially at the last nurse and says, “Yeah, no, we got this- thanks. He’s all good to go. I have it on good authority that he’s going to sleep for a long time, now, and so are we, thanks, we’ll call if we need anything, bye!”

He shuts the door and leans against it for a moment. Peter can sympathize. It was a very fast whirl of too many people and too many things happening, all at once, for an hour there.

But, he cautiously approves the results.

Bucky looks much more Bucky-like, with his hair trimmed and washed, with the grime washed from his body, in a soft-looking jacket-shirt thing. He’s still too thin, but he looks _cared_ for, now. Like, like if someone took the photos of Bucky Barnes, soldier, and he just got sick with like a wasting disease or something, like, uh, cholera or something, for a few months and then they snapped this photo and- Peter really needs to sleep. He _needs_ to. 

“Stay there, I’m moving the couch over,” directs Sam. “And then we’ll find out if our new buddy has a problem with you switching sides.”

“I think it’s my scent, actually,” says Peter absently. “He’s been calm since Harley brought in the pillow and blankets.” Well, since the nurse had finally approved putting them near Bucky. Which approval hadn’t been granted until after the matted hair had been trimmed, washed, and quickly combed, the stubble on his face shaved, while the other two gave a sponge bath to the rest of him. Not that Peter remembers any of it, he’d been hiding his face in his hands to avoid looking.

“Ah. Well,” says Sam doubtfully. “Still gonna keep you here. Witch said you should stay, you should stay.”

“Yeah,” agrees Peter tiredly. “I can- I can watch him.”

“Not. Alone,” says Sam firmly. Peter glances up at him as he finishes shifting the couch and nods. “Not leaving any Pack ommy alone with a strange alpha who’s unstable, Peter,” Sam reminds him. “Couch folds out, here, gimme a hand.”

They fold the couch out and Peter watches Sam attempt to make the bed for a few seconds before he can’t stand it and he rips the sheets out of the beta’s hands. “No, you’re just- that’s not-” he mutters, cheeks flaming because if Harley were here, he’d hoot about how Peter’s _such a drippy omega_.

“Thank God,” chuckles Sam, holding up his hands and reaching over to grab the blanket and offer it up to Peter. “I had no idea what I was doing. Glad I’m trapped in here with an omega who knows what they’re doing.”

Peter appreciates how effortlessly Sam smooths over everything, envies the beta his ability to make peace. And wants to snuggle- or be snuggled- by the man so hard he can taste the feeling of comfort it would give him. He’s just so tired, and Sam always knows just how to fit himself around Peter. Unlike _other_ betas Peter could name.

It doesn’t take long to make up the bed, with Sam helping, and that’s good, because Peter is so tired. So tired.

Peter checks on Bucky one last time, as Sam crawls between the covers and shifts pillows, exclaiming quietly about how it’s surprisingly comfortable. Bucky’s face is quiet and calm, free from the strains of pain and confusion that have swept across it since Peter met him in the alley. He’s breathing deeply, and sure enough, Peter catches his nostrils flaring every third breath or so, as he scents the air, comforted, no doubt, by Peter’s favorite pillow and blanket, thrown across him.

Well. Sacrificing his favorite pillow and blanket, that’s the least he can do. Peter has studied the Winter Soldier file front to back several times. The man is a national hero, a national treasure, and an eight-decades long P.O.W., tortured and maimed and twisted. And then broken. And then rebuilt. He can _keep_ the pillow, and the blanket, if they give him any comfort at all.

The IV machine’s light is showing green, 999, dripping steadily. The nurse had said she’d be back in an hour with another set. They’re filling him up with all kinds of vitamins and nutrients, the way they do for Steve or Peter. This is his second set, and it’s already making such a difference. Peter doesn’t think he’s imagining how the alpha’s body is knitting itself back together. That fits the data, too. He stares at the number- 999- and tries very hard not to think of everything in the file on how Hydra had taken this man apart over the years, over and over and over again, and then filled him up with nutrients and put him on ice and- 

“Peter, come to bed,” orders Sam calmly. “You’re dead on your feet and he’s fine. Come sleep.”

“...yeah,” agrees Peter, after another moment. He slides in, between the sheets and under the covers, and closes his eyes, lips trembling, when Sam draws him into a tight embrace.  
  
“For the next little bit, I’ve got you,” Sam says firmly. “Just go to sleep.”

“It’s really him, Sam,” says Peter quietly, his heart breaking a little, for Alpha, for Bucky, for the whole- for everything, the whole messed up situation.

“Yes,” says Sam, beside his ear, arms warm and strong. He throws a leg over Peter’s and says, “And he’ll be here all night, safe in our den. Go to sleep. Nurse’ll be in to change out the bags. Try not to startle awake and web her.”

“Yes, Beta,” says Peter, because of course Sam’s right. He presses back, and Sam holds him tighter for just a moment, and then there’s nothing to do but stare straight ahead, waiting. 

Sam falls asleep well before him, but he always does drift off fast and easily, he’s the fastest to sleep out of all of them, except maybe for Harley. Whenever they pack huddle, which doesn’t happen often but shock sick is a thing, it’s always Peter and Darcy and Thor and Steve awake at odd hours, whispering softly in the night. Peter’s used to being held by a sleeping alpha or beta, used to letting another person’s heartbeat and breathing lull him to sleep.

Tonight, though, it’s not Sam’s breathing, steady and hot across his cheek, that does the trick.

It’s the breathing of Bucky Barnes, sleeping sweetly less than a foot from him. The deep in and out of a man who looks 30 and is almost 100, whose body is sucking down nutrients and rebuilding literal decades of decay.

The alpha who had declared _Mine_ , and called Peter _oma_.

His alpha, Peter thinks quietly, letting himself think it just because it has to be thought, at least once, tonight, in this darkest hour.  
  
Maybe not tomorrow, when he wakes up. Tomorrow, they’ll find out who Bucky Barnes is, now, after- after everything the Scarlet Witch did to help him _be safe_ as she put it. Tomorrow, they’ll find out so many things. 

But for tonight, he can just be Peter’s alpha, safe and clean and cared for, here near Peter’s nest.

~~~

Harley is rooting around in the cupboards when Thor walks into the kitchen. 

“Oh, hey, you’re back!” he greets the God, and then, even though it’s drippy, he opens his arms for a hug.

Thor, of course, takes him up on the offer, immediately scenting him and seeming to relish the opportunity to do so. “Harley!” he booms, clearly pleased. Harley hopes it’s clear from his scent that he’s equally pleased- he likes the alien alpha quite a bit, not least because he shares his poptarts generously. “Have we already dealt with whoever gave you the bruised eye?”

“We have,” says Harley graciously, hugging him back. God, he loves this guy.

“Where is my Earth team? Jane has news!”

“Not that,” says Darcy, entering the kitchen and catching his expression of faint horror. “No one’s whelping.”

“Yet,” adds Thor, with a wink as he puts Harley carefully back down on the floor. “I will wear my lady down, she will see the wisdom in a break from all of this study, I know it!”

“You’d have better luck with me,” snorts Darcy, patting him on the bicep as she walks by to open the fridge, “and I’m not saying that because I’m at all interested.”

“Hey, yeah, how does that work, anyway?” asks Harley, a little snidely, but it’s _Darcy_. “If y’all don’t have heats, how do you know when you _are_ interested?”

“Nunya business,” she laughs at him. “Super secret beta code precludes me from ever answering any questions about our super secret beta stuff.”

“Honestly, Harley,” sighs Jane, entering the kitchen and looking a little frazzled. “Just do your homework.” She pauses a second and then frowns, shifting closer to Harley in that abruptly-focused way she has. “Who punched you?”

“N-no one,” Harley stammers. “I fell, I was, uh, puppy-fighting with Clint and I tried to do this wicked cool move, but it didn’t work, there was a carpet that tripped me up, and I fell. Uh, into his fist, actually.”

“Did someone take care of it, though?” asks Jane sincerely, as if Harley can stub his toe without someone popping out of the woodwork to check that it’s okay, these days.

“They did,” Harley assures her as sincerely as he can.

“Hmm,” she says, clearly not convinced.

“Oh, hey, am I the first, uh, Avenger-type person you’ve seen?” asks Harley, and then quickly follows this with, “because a lot has happened and you should kinda know, but I don’t know if I should tell you or if someone else is, like, more qualified-”

“Relax, junior,” says Clint, entering from the other side of the kitchen and yawning. “I got it.”

Harley blows out a breath. Thank God. 

“So, we found the Winter Soldier that the pups have been tracking,” says Clint, pulling a jar of peanut butter out of the cupboards and sticking a spoon into it. “Make me coffee,” he demands of Harley.

Harley shoots back, “Omega lib _happened_ , Clint.”

“Okay, but so did me exploding the coffee maker, last time, and you got really pissed about it, so-” returns Clint with a smirk.

“I swear you did it on purpose,” Harley mutters, opening the lid on the coffee maker.

“He didn’t,” Darcy informs him. “He’s taken out like three of the things since I’ve lived here.”

“Five total, since we moved in,” offers Clint with a grin, around the spoonful of peanut butter he’s shoved into his mouth.  
  
Jane sighs, “Clinton, other people have to eat out of that-”

“Nah, I’ll eat it all, I wouldn’t do that, Jane, I’m not a savage,” protests Clint, scraping around the sides of the jar. “I’d’ve spread it on bread if it was a new jar, but there’s nothing here worth saving.”

“SO,” booms Darcy, popping open a yogurt and sitting in a chair, sliding another yogurt over to Jane, who nods gratefully, “you found the Winter Soldier. Is he hot? Oh my God. Is he a she?”

“ _He_ ,” stresses Clint, speaking slowly around the peanut butter, clearly relishing his words by the way he carefully enunciates them, “is Bucky Barnes.”

“No shit,” gasps Darcy, dropping her spoon into her yogurt cup for emphasis. Jane looks equally floored and impressed. Darcy whistles and then continues, “How’d Alpha take the news?”

“Better than he took the whole Peter-tarted-up thing,” snorts Harley, pressing the Make It Brew button with judicious force.

“What Peter-tarted-up thing?” asks Jane, confusion splashed across her delicate features. Thor grabs the entire box of bright purple Poptarts and sits as closely next to her as he can, his own face a match for her confusion.

“Oh, that was Clint’s plan to trap the guy,” Harley tells them, before Clint can ruin all the fun. “Send out the barely-scented omega as jailbait.”

All the heads at the table swivel to look at Clint, who points his spoon at Harley and says, “You are not blaming this one on me, Peter argued it had to be him.”

“Omega wanted to be the one to be the bait,” Harley explains, enjoying the way it’s an explanation, but it’s an explanation that causes only greater levels of confusion in his audience. “But Alpha listened to Peter.”

“Well, it was my original idea,” concedes Clint, taking another judicious scoop. “So I want all the credit. But none of the blame. Peter can have the blame.”

“Fair,” laughs Harley.

Clint continues, “Anyway, so Nat and Alpha took Peter down to where the assassin had been kind of hanging out, and they catch him in this alley, right? And he’s absolutely Bucky Barnes, but he’s five kinds of messed up, and he like, imprints on Peter? He totally attacked Steve, too.”

“That’s just alpha stuff,” snorts Harley. “Probably couldn’t help himself.”

“Probably,” says Clint, tilting his head in agreement. “But still. Anyway, they get him back here and Tony called in the Scarlet Witch, so they’re doing _their_ sharpening-their-nails, attacking-each-other omega thing, which, I can’t wait for you to see it now that she’s whelping, it’s terrifying, Darcy. Absolutely boot-shaking terrifying.”

“Can’t wait,” she tells him brightly. “But keep going.”

“So the Witch works on him until early this morning, and then, like, half-collapses, I was there, she was beat,” says Harley. “Said she and Bucky were gonna sleep for half a day or something. And then there were a ton of doctors and nurses, like, cleaning him up and feeding him through tubes and stuff. Guy needed it, too, looked real rough.”

“Real rough,” echoes Clint in solemn agreement. “Cat dragged in rough.”

“Cat coughed up rough,” amends Harley.

“Bucky Barnes used to Pack with Steve, back in WWII,” Darcy tells Thor in an attempt to actually explain the situation to the man.

Thor nods, his face clearing a little. “Ah. And where is Alpha? Were his wounds grievous?”

“Nah, bruises are probably already healed up. He’s in with Omega. Because Peter was _tarted up_ , you shoulda been here, Darcy, you’d’a loved it. They stopped at the alley entrance and Alpha completely scentmarked him, they were both so red, completely embarrassed!” Harley declares.

“Oh, I need that film, JARVIS,” moans Darcy. “I can’t believe I missed everything, weeks and weeks of boring research and then it all happens while I’m visiting space mom and dad with the honeymooners!”

“Yes, Miss Lewis,” intones the AI.

“You enjoyed Asgard,” Jane says blandly, pointing her spoon in an accusatory fashion at Darcy.  
  
Darcy blinks. “Of course I did. Everyone thinks I’m amazing.”

“You are amazing,” Thor assures her. “As handmaiden of my cult-”

“Whoa, what?” hoots Harley, because _what?_

“It’s a ceremonial thing, you wouldn’t understand,” says Darcy loftily, but the tips of her ears turn red and she glares at Thor, who abruptly looks awkward. 

“Oh, am I not- Jane?” he says weakly.

“So, Alpha’s in with Omega, Peter’s with Bucky Barnes, the Witch is with her brother, where’re Nat and Bruce, Clint?” asks Jane in a violently obvious segue. Harley continues to eye up Darcy’s expression for a few moments longer because _that_ was an interesting reaction.

“Left ‘em still at it,” Clint sighs. “Came for provisions. Whatever whammy Peter had working last night, to pull the guy in, it was potent. Natasha’s been insatiable.”

Harley snickers. Clint sighs again and says, “Get your chuckles in while you can, at some point you’re going to get mated, and then it’ll be _you_ calming down the alpha when they get all riled. Better start taking notes, pup.” Harley feels his heart pound just thinking about that, thinking about how he’s supposed to know how to do all these things, and how he always seems to get it wrong, first time through. Maybe he just won’t ever mate. Maybe that’s the best way to make sure-

“Yeah, like, bend head at 45 degree angle,” teases Darcy, “lick lips, make bedroom eyes, spread leg- ow!”

“It’s not like that,” Jane says severely, retracting the spoon she’d just used to smack Darcy on the nose and using it to scoop out another mouthful of yogurt. “It’s not like that,” she repeats to Harley, solemnly.

“It is not,” agrees Thor firmly, rubbing a hand through Harley’s hair. “Ignore Darcy. She is, as Jane says, a little wound up.”

“Well who wouldn’t be? There’s a super soldier back from the dead!” she declares. “And it’s Alpha’s old _second_. Hell, the zombie and Natasha are going to have to duke it out, can you just imagine? Alpha’s going to blow a gasket!”

“Alpha,” says the cool voice of Pepper Potts, entering the kitchen, “is handling it better than you are, my dear, and with a lot more compassion for the torture victim he brought home last night.” She surveys the gathered faces, nodding as they all mutter chastened greetings to her. “Mm. Did they bring you up to speed, Jane, Thor?”

Her obvious dismissal of Darcy makes Darcy wince and turn her attention to her yogurt. Any latent effects of the Asgardian spoiling are going to dissipate _fast_ , Harley predicts. At least it’s a bit of a relief to see proof that no one around this Tower lets _anyone_ get away with anything for long.

Jane and Thor murmur brief affirmatives and then Clint, who doesn’t have a self-preservation bone in his body, Harley thinks, asks, “So, how are they? Are they- will we see any of them today?”

“Mm. Resting peacefully, for now. I’m gathering up a good breakfast, and then they’ll be down to see Bucky and sort out Peter. Everyone will be very busy minding their own business until we meet for dinner, correct?” she asks, arching one eyebrow at Darcy.

“We will be,” Harley tells her firmly. “Should- should I take breakfast to, uh, Wanda and her brother?”

“Excellent idea,” she informs him with her small smile. “I’ll show you how to make up a tray that can sit for hours, if need be.”

“Thanks,” he tells her gratefully.

Darcy and Jane finish their yogurt in silence while Clint and Pepper help Harley make informed decisions regarding a good guest tray as they make up trays for their partners.

Thor collects his two women and very painfully obviously shepherds them out of the kitchen. Pepper blows out an annoyed breath and says, “ _Honestly.”_

“It is kind of crazy,” Clint puts in. Harley’s glad someone says it, but he’s even more glad it doesn’t have to be him.

Pepper shakes her head. “That’s no reason not to remember that these are people, all of them, that Alpha is a person and Bucky is a person, and that they’re likely to be in pain for the next… I don’t know how long.

“Witch said last night Bucky was safe to, like, be around,” Harley offers. “And that she could go in, do more, after she’d rested.”

Pepper blows out a breath, sighing, “Well, that’s some good news. You two, on your best behavior for me, please. No more black eyes.”

“Yes, Beta,” says Clint, his eyes serious instead of mocking, for once. Harley doesn’t hesitate to add his own, “Yes, Beta.”

“Take the trays. I’ll see you before dinner. We’ll eat in the dining hall, I’ll have JARVIS organize a buffet of comfort food. Keep your phones charged, and make sure that if I call you, you answer,” she says pointedly.

Honestly, she’s as terrifying as Steve, she really is, Harley thinks, as he and Clint nod silently.

~~~

Tony surfaces from his comfortable cuddle a little muzzily, resentful at the opening and closing of the door. Again. Interrupting his early-morning haze. Again.

“Just me,” calls Pepper quietly, and well, that’s okay. Pepper’s okay. She’s rarely an interruption. More likely to be active support, Tony thinks, kissing the chest his chin is resting on.

“Mm,” mutters Steve, hand rising to trace Tony’s mouth with sleep-clumsy fingertips. 

“Want food?” she murmurs, drawing near. There’s the muted clink and clank of dishes settling, the sound of plastic wrappers crinkling against each other.

“Mm,” denies Tony, but Steve makes a sound of inquiry. Of course he does. Stupid alpha. They’re so comfortable. Sure, food _sounds_ nice, but it’s a trap. First there’s food, and then there’s coffee, and then she’s going to expect them to start thinking again, and talking, and then-

-it’s too late. _Damn_. Pepper has handed Steve a heat-bar. Well, there’s the rest of Tony’s morning, shot. Might as well open his eyes and put up a hand, see what she passes over.

Tony sighs, and Pepper snorts. “Chocolate,” she says in a very reassuring tone of voice.

Well. At least it’s a _good_ bribe, considers Tony, biting into the chocolate donut.

“It’s just after eleven a.m.,” she informs them.

Tony didn’t _want_ to know that, thanks. He grimaces at her.

“You’re getting crumbs all over Alpha,” she chides him. “Sit up, you heathen.”

“Still knotted,” he points out smugly.

“You can sit up, hell, you can ride him knotted, I’ve seen you do it. Sit up,” she says, and Steve gives the most wonderful low groan, no doubt in response to the memory of all the times Tony’s ridden him.   
  
Tony grins a Pepper and she grins back, poking Steve in the shoulder. “C’mon, help him up. Crumbs all over the nest, like that.”

Between all three of them, they get Tony into a _very awakening_ seat on top of Steve.

Steve pants for a second and then narrows his eyes at Tony. “You’re not helping,” he says, as Tony licks the frosting off the donut, eyes on Steve’s face, tongue slow and deliberately infuriating.

“Helping what?” asks Tony curiously, shifting his hips a little.

“Blast it, Tony,” swears Steve, as Pepper laughs. 

“You boys were going to go another round, anyway, I’d put money on it,” Pepper snickers. “You always do when he falls asleep on top of you.”

“Coffee,” croaks Tony, eyeing Steve as he finishes the donut and begins to lick his fingers. Steve snarls into his high-protein, high-energy, high-everything heat bar, chewing furiously.

“Right here,” says Pepper, who is, of course, already holding out a silicone lidded cup. “Guzzle away, I don’t think he’s going to let you take a lot of time. Looks antsy.”

Steve glares at her, clearly affronted, but accepts a water bottle, taking careful sips as Tony begins a slow, steady, slide-and-glide of his hips. His knees are killing him, but he’ll take a little arthritic pain because damn, does that knot feel _good_. He sips at the coffee, hoping Pepper doesn’t step too far away because there’s a good chance Steve’s going to want something real soon that’s going to require the use of both of his hands, and they have that rule about hot liquid containers near the nest _for safety reasons._

One of Steve’s hands trails up and down Tony’s right thigh, grabbing and gripping at intervals as his gaze crosses Tony’s chest, eyeing his dick- recently limp and exhausted, poor thing, but slowly reporting for duty again- with a hot and heavy glance.

By the time Tony finishes chugging the coffee, Steve’s already given Pepper back the water bottle and has begun holding both of Tony’s hips, directing the motion of them with little grunts of interest.

“Work, work, work,” sighs Tony, which makes Pepper snicker and Steve snort. Steve leans up, re-situating Tony so that the Alpha can lick his way into Tony’s mouth, chasing the chocolate flavor, no doubt. Pepper takes the mug from his hand before his fingers drop it, because the new angle sinks the knot just a half-inch deeper and _damn_ if that doesn’t feel amazing.

Well worth the wake-up call, in fact.

“Told you that you could ride him knotted,” says Pepper in a tone of satisfaction.

“Didn’t argue,” gasps Tony.

Steve growls and deepens the kiss, beginning to thrust up in time to the rhythm of Tony’s hips that he insists on with heavy hands.

“Breakfast,” he mutters into Tony’s mouth.

“Mm,” agrees Tony. Sure. Sounds good.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm alive! Life has gotten crazy and there's no good way to let you know I don't have the time to write, so I'm unable to predict when I will be posting. I haven't abandoned anything- I've got the next several chapters all plotted out! But I used to have chunks of 3-4 hours a day to write, and those hours have disappeared. I'm lucky to squeak in thirty minutes, some days. And I don't know when that will end. SO. Know that I haven't abandoned any of the stories, I'm just frantically squeezing them out in little drip-drops instead of in torrents of words.
> 
> Please feel free to shout out in the comments so I know you're okay.
> 
> Looking for a hit of this universe while you wait for me?! Check out Orchidaexa’s Daredevil, Deadpool, and Spidey story, written in this AU: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073085


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